


The Piercing

by racingtotheoblivion



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Loves Sam Winchester, Dean is 19/20, F/M, Hunting, John doesn't know, M/M, Piercings, Sam is 15/16, Underage - Freeform, Underage Kissing, Weecest, Weechesters, Werewolves, Wincest - Freeform, belly button piercing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 10:24:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7218727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/racingtotheoblivion/pseuds/racingtotheoblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets money for his birthday and does something he starts to regret the second he gets it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Piercing

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this is just one of the random ideas that popped into my head that I wanted to make into a fic, but since it wasn't a big enough idea for a chaptered story I decided to just post it as a oneshot. Hope you enjoy!

It's only three days after his 15th birthday and Sam realizes how stupid he is. Bobby sent money to their P.O. box for him, and Dad stopped there before taking him and Dean to their next hunt. Bobby always sent money for their birthdays, and this year Dean had received 70 dollars, so Sam did too. He looked down at the envelope the whole way to the next town, trying to decide what to buy. Dean kept suggesting he give the money to the “best big brother ever”, but Sam didn’t get a penny of Dean’s, so he said no.

 

They arrived in the small town, Sam not even bothering to remember the name - it was early May and he didn’t have to bother at this point. If they moved before the end of the school year they ended up “homeschooling”. Meaning Sam taught himself and Dean went along on hunts with Dad. Dean always came back at night, though, even if Dad didn’t.

 

So, it’s May fifth, and Sam comes up with a great idea to spend his money.

 

He decides to get a piercing.

 

Of course, it would have to be somewhere no one would see it. Not only would Dean make fun of him, and never let him hear the end of it, Dad would get angry for him spending money so frivolously when they barely scrape by. But Sam figures, it’s his money, so he should do what he wants.

 

Once Dean and Dad leave in the morning, Sam gets dressed. He makes sure he has a key to the motel room before he leaves, the envelope in his sweatshirt pouch and his hands tingling. He doesn’t know what to expect. Will it hurt? Will he look like an idiot, going in there at fifteen with shaggy hair and baggy hand-me-down jeans?

 

He thanks some higher being that no one is in there when he walks in, besides a woman with tattoos covering her arms. Sam admires them for a minute before he realizes she’s talking.

 

“What can I help you with?” she asks with a kind voice, smiling at Sam.

 

Sam returns the smile shyly, pulling the envelope out of his pocket. “I, uh, was wondering if you did piercings,” he says after a few seconds. He really hates that he hates talking in front of new people. He always ends up sounding like a little kid.  _ You are a little kid _ , Dean would say. Which, c’mon, 15 isn’t that young.

 

“Yeah, we do,” the woman replies with a nod. “What kind of piercing are you interested in?”

 

“Belly button,” Sam says almost immediately.

 

The woman nods again, biting her lip. “Well, you’re pretty young. Do you have parental permission and consent of some kind?”

 

Sam nods, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Yeah, here. He’s my dad.” He had forged it about a week earlier, adding the writing over the top just that morning. Dean had taught him how to forge and obviously he learned after years of seeing Dean getting fake credit cards. Although getting credit cards is fraud, forging a signature for a piercing you’re paying for yourself isn’t that bad.

 

“Winchester, eh? Like the gun,” the woman says, handing the note back to Sam, who just nods. Against her better judgement, the woman leads Sam to the back, into one of the rooms. “Might want to take your sweatshirt off, it’ll make it easier so it doesn’t slip down.”

 

Sam just nods and pulls his sweatshirt off, thankful he wore a baggy shirt underneath it. “Do you want me to... just lay down?” When the woman nods he moves over, laying down on the chair that reminds him of the dentist’s, when he had to go to fix a cracked tooth after he fell. Dad was really mad.

 

He watches as she disinfects the clamps, along with a somewhat large needle that Sam would flinch at if he were normal. But he’s not, and he’s seen things he doesn’t want to admit. Had to cut his hand at the young age of ten to prove he wasn’t a shapeshifter, remembering the pain of the sharp edge cutting through the tender skin of his palm. This can’t be worse than that.

 

“Gonna be a few minutes to clean this up,” the woman says, and Sam breathes out slowly, convincing himself not to back out. “So tell me a bit about yourself, kid, it’ll take the nerves away.”

 

Sam lets out another breath, closing his eyes as he rests his head back. Maybe telling someone the truth will help him. “Well, I’m Sam. We’ve moved all my life, my dad, my brother and I. My mom died when I was six months old in a house fire, and since then it’s just been us. We don’t stay in many places long, because of my dad’s job. My brother usually watches me, because Dad usually just drops us off somewhere before he works. Sometimes we go stay with my Uncle Bobby and sometimes with Pastor Jim, but for the most part it’s just me and Dean.”

 

The woman frowns, moving over to the table while holding the clamp and the needle. “Doesn’t sound like a very good life, kid.”

 

“It’s all I’ve known,” Sam says quietly, pulling his shirt up before turning his head a little. “I don’t think I’d change it if I could.”

 

They stay silent the rest of the time, Sam barely flinching when the needle goes through. She quickly puts the piercing in and cleans him up afterwards. Sam gives her the money - 50 dollars, so he still has some left - and she smiles.

 

“Here’s some cleaner and cups, and a guide for cleaning and taking care of it,” she says, handing Sam the bag. She usually doesn’t give her customers things for care, but after hearing his story, it doesn’t sound like his family has much money to spend on things like that. Of course, he had money to spend, but not necessarily enough to pay for cleaner for the next year.

 

“Thank you so much,” Sam says with a smile, grabbing his sweatshirt before he leaves.

 

**   
  


Okay, so maybe it didn’t hurt when he got it, but a few hours later his stomach is aching and the skin around the piercing his throbbing. He washes it a few times that day, like he’s told, but it burns each time and he bites back whimpers as he keeps the cup held to his stomach. He regrets his decision after cleaning it the second time that night, as he hears the Impala’s engine cut off in front of the motel room. He quickly throws the cup away and hides the cleaner in his duffle, pulling the baggy shirt - Dean’s, most likely - back down over his stomach. He shifts back to lean against the headboard, picking up a random book next to his bag before he flips to a page.

 

He pretends he’s reading when Dean walks in, setting the keys on the counter with a loud sigh.

 

“Probably gonna be here until late May, Sammy, this is taking a while,” Dean says, grabbing one of John’s beers out of the fridge before going over, sitting down next to Sam on the bed. “These damn werewolves don’t wanna reveal themselves.”

 

Sam nods a little, glancing up from his book to look over at Dean, whose hair is sweaty and shirt clinging to his body. “You really need to take a shower, or something. I don’t want my bed all sweaty.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes, drinking more of the beer before getting up, setting it down on the end table. “Bitch,” he mumbles, and Sam instantly mumbles back a  _ Jerk _ . “Don’t drink that while I’m gone.”

 

“Don’t worry, I’m not into underage drinking as much as you are, Dean.”

 

“Only two years away, Sammy boy. It’s been a long day, and what Dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Dean replies, ruffling Sam’s hair before he goes off to the bathroom

 

Sam’s face twists up when he hears the shower turn on, lifting his shirt up slightly to look down at the piercing. His skin his red around it and he breathes deeply through his nose, letting his shirt drop back down. He really wishes he would’ve just gotten a tattoo or something.

 

**

 

Sam can’t sleep all night. Not only is the throbbing keeping his mind preoccupied, he was told to sleep on his sides or back. And he usually ends up sleeping on his stomach, so he’s worried about hurting something.

 

At about five thirty he goes over to the small kitchen. Dean’s getting up at six so he tries to make a good breakfast - pancakes with old pancake mix, a protein bar for Dean since he always gets tired on hunts, a banana, and some milk. He tries not to touch his stomach but in the back of his head he thinks pressure will help, but he listens to his judgement and keeps his hands busy while he cooks.

 

It's when he's getting the plates ready when he realizes he needs to pay attention. With years of hunting under his belt, Dean can move silently and quickly to stay undetected. Now, of course, he sneaks up behind Sam, grabbing at his stomach in an attempt to tickle him. Sam tries to cover up his whine with a cough, trying to get away from Dean, but he still ends up hearing it.

 

“Sammy? You okay?” Dean asks, turning Sam around to look at him, concern glinting in his eyes. “Did I hurt you?”

 

Sam shakes his head slightly, looking at Dean for a few seconds before turning his head to look over his shoulder. “Just pinched my stomach a little. I'm okay.”

 

Dean nods slowly, but he doesn't believe Sam. The kid’s a shit liar and Dean can tell the second he isn't telling the truth: he always looks away at Dean and his hands clench on his shirt. “You sure? Because I thought maybe it was something else.” He moves his hand down and Sam lets out a small gasp, Dean’s hand coming to rest on his stomach, feeling the two small bumps of the piercing against his palm.

 

“Please don't tell Dad,” Sam says immediately, nervously. He looks up at Dean with wide eyes, while Dean just nudges his head up, gesturing to Sam to pull his shirt up. After spending so many endless hours together, they understand each other without words.

 

Sam pulls his shirt up slowly, biting his lip before shutting his eyes. He feels Dean’s eyes on him, feels his body heat when he moves closer.

 

“Go clean it, I'll finish breakfast,” Dean says after a few moments, patting Sam’s side. “Gotta keep it clean, don't want it to get infected, Sammy.”

 

Sam doesn't know why Dean doesn't tease him, doesn't hold him back and make fun of him. But he just gives Dean a small smile before he runs off to the bathroom to clean it up.

 

**

 

It's later that week, and Dean came back to the hotel for the weekend to watch Sam. John’s staying in the town, just to keep watch on everything or to be there if they make w break in the case.

 

Around eight Saturday night, Sam’s reading one of his books when Dean stumbles in with a brunette. She’s got dimples and she's probably around Sam’s height, but he isn't sure. She just comes up to the same spot on Dean that Sam does. The one thing he does notice, though, is that she's wearing a cropped tank top and there, right there, she has a belly button piercing. Sam can't see what it looks like exactly, but he's glad to know the swelling does eventually go away (he always knew it did, but with the constant throbbing he gets worried).

 

“C’mon, kiddo, go to the bathroom or something,” Dean says, slipping his jacket off before putting it on one of the old chairs in their little kitchen.

 

“Oh, I don't mind if he watches,” the girl says, and Sam turns his face up at that, shaking his head quickly.

 

“I'd rather not watch, thanks. Try not being so loud this time,” Sam mumbles, grabbing his book before walking to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

 

The walls are thin, and he can still hear Dean talking to the girl.

 

“This time?”

 

“Never mind him. Fifteen and all, wishes his big brother wasn't so attractive so he could get more girls.”

 

A giggle, then footsteps over to what Sam assumes is one of the beds. “So what's his name?”

 

“Ah, little Sammy.” Sam glares at the door, hoping Dean can feel it through to the other side. This is when he would say  _ I'm not little, Dean; I'm getting taller _ .

 

Sam tries to focus on reading when he starts to hear them, shaking his head just slightly. He hates that these motels are so cheap, that he can hear everything and doesn't have anywhere to go when Dean brings girls home. Eventually, like normal, he can tune it out, can focus in on something so much the sound goes away.

 

Well, until he hears his name.

 

He hears something along the lines of, “Oh, it's an anchor.” Dean.

 

“Yeah, I've had it for about a year.” The girl. “Like it?” Dean doesn't respond, and she only giggles, so that must be a sign of a yes.

 

Sam freezes on the word he's looking at when he hears sloppy noises, and then a, “Fuck, Sammy.”

 

He breathes out slowly, feeling himself hardening in his pajama bottoms. He rests his head back against the door, sliding a hand down to press his palm against it, rocking his hips up slowly. He shouldn't be getting off on his brother practically moaning his name, but he can't help it, just can't help the feeling he got. Tingles through his body and his dick popping straight up.

 

“What did you just call me?” the girl asks, and Sam can hear scrambling. “Did you just call me your brother’s name?”

 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean-”

 

“No, that's just sick. That's really sick. Goodbye, Dean,” the girl says, and she's quickly leaving, Sam hearing the door slam after her.

 

Sam listens as Dean flops back down onto the bed, pressing his palm down harder and rubbing as he thinks.  _ He was thinking of me when he had that girl with him. He said my name, not hers. He must've been thinking about me. Maybe I'm not crazy. _ He hears it again, a soft “Sammy” through the door. He lets go almost instantly, biting back a moan with his lips clamped shut.

 

“Just a second,” he says, once he can get his voice calmed down. He cleans up the best he can, then opens the door to show Dean.

 

“You didn't hear that, did you?”

 

Sam sighs softly, crossing his arms loosely as he looks up at Dean. His big brother who thinks about him when he's almost having sex with girls.

 

“You're keeping the secret about the piercing, least I can do is not talk about this,” Sam says, and man, when did he start talking like Dean? “I won't mention it if you don't mention it. Then you'll forget.”

 

**

 

Against his wishes, John comes to the conclusion that he has to drag Sam out on the case. The pack was bigger than expected, so they need everyone. Bobby was called down, too, and so was Rufus.

 

Sam feels Dean give him glances, and whenever they meet eyes Dean bites his lip before looking away. After what happened, Sam couldn’t sleep - which also had to do with being overtired - and Dean didn’t sleep either, Sam knows, because he heard sheets rustling all night, loud sighs escaping his brother’s lips.

 

They’re standing around John as he pulls items out of the trunk of the Impala, giving everyone a gun with silver bullets and a different weapon, anywhere from the size of a sword for Sam and Dean to small knives for Rufus, Bobby, and himself.

 

“C’mon, let’s go,” John says, and all three men make their way to the pond in front of them, looking murky and definitely not clean.

 

“We have to go through that?” Sam says after a few seconds, not wanting to sound like a wimp. Because on any other day, he’d definitely go through that, maybe splash around to take the edge of the hunt off. But he can’t, absolutely cannot, because if he gets the water near his piercing, with his luck, he’d get an infection and then definitely have to tell John.

 

John, who turns around and stares back at his son in disbelief. “Yes, we have to get through the pond. It’s pretty shallow. Unless if you’d like to walk all the way around it.”

 

Sam just looks over at the edge of the pond, breathing out slowly. He goes to speak when he hears Dean, glancing up at his older brother quickly. “Nah, I'll take him. Maybe we’ll get a few stragglers on the way over. C’mon, Sammy.”

 

Dean clicks his safety and so does Sam, nodding at John before they start walking. “Boys, be careful, if you get behind those bushes and we can't see you just start making noise.” They nod again and walk away, Dean letting out a sigh as they distance themselves.

 

“There's, like, four werewolves. I don't see why he can't do it on his own,” Dean mumbles, shaking his head slightly before glancing over at Sam.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“For what?”

 

“Coming with me. Since I'm an idiot and now I can't go the easy way,” Sam says quietly, shaking his head a little. “It was a waste of money and time and now I'm gonna have to hold back so I don't get it infected.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes, looking at Sam again. “Please, Sammy, the chicks’ll dig it. Not many guys have belly button piercings.”

 

“Who said I did it for girls,” Sam retorts, his voice soft, more of a statement than a question. “Maybe I did it just because I wanted to.” He shrugs, glancing around, gun still gripped in his hand. He shouldn't be holding guns at this age. “But I regret it now.”

 

“Hey, Sammy, c’mon,” Dean says, and they come to a stop, Dean crouching down just slightly to meet Sam’s height. The kid’s catching up to him. “That's how we grow, we do things and then regret them and we learn from it.” Sam just looks down, avoiding Dean’s gaze. He absolutely hates when he gets like this, when Dean feels the need to act smarter and wiser just because he's older. His breath hitches slightly as Dean continues, though, because he can't help it. “Plus, it looks pretty good on you. A lot of guys wouldn't be able to pull it off. But,” Dean says with a soft tone, the green in his eyes almost gone as he pulls Sam’s shirt up, eyes locked on the piercing, before continuing, “God, Sammy.”

 

Sam lets out another breath when his eyes shut, and he feels Dean’s lips on his, and he finally understands why all those girls are all over him. His gentle but rough kisses, the way his hands grip at his slim hips, his thumb just brushing on the edge of the piercing, and Sam just doesn't believe it, thinks he must be dreaming or something because there's no logical reason for him to be thinking about Dean like this, for Dean to be kissing him.

 

His arms quickly wind around Dean’s neck, grasping at his short hair with long slender fingers, quiet sounds passing between them when Sam realizes that he wanted this all along. He wanted to be closer to his brother and maybe that's why he went and got the piercing, because he's too stupid to realize his emotions so he gets a piercing because he remembers Dean said one night piercings are always a plus, can make someone more attractive depending on where it is.

 

And then there's a growl. They quickly pull away, both aiming their guns at the approaching werewolves. There are only four, like Dean said, and they each get two, shooting at the heart, knocking them both down quickly.

 

Sam swears his lips are still swollen when John, Bobby and Rufus run over, when Dean just smirks and says, “Got ‘em, let's go.”

 

John picks up ice cream on the way home, congratulating Sam on the first time he does something in a hunt, actually uses a gun on a creature for the first time. They eat their ice cream and John gives Sam a sip of his beer when they get to the motel before they all take showers, Sam carefully cleaning his now less painful piercing.

 

That night in bed, though, where Dean and Sam still share, because it's cheaper than getting three beds with an extra room, Sam feels Dean crowd up behind him. A hand lands on his side and Sam holds in a breath, curling up more. “We’ll celebrate in a year, okay? When it heals.”

 

**

 

Dean sticks to his word because a year later, Sam now 16 and Dean now 20, they're at another small, off-the-grid town, a whole day to themselves while John hunts a Wendigo. And, well, the second John leaves, Dean’s on Sam, shoving him on the bed, barely giving him a moment to breathe before he’s kissing him. Sloppily and messily, and Sam can't help but laugh, grab at Dean’s back as his shirt is pulled up.

 

Their shirts are soon both off and on the floor, and Sam lets out small gasps and moans as Dean trails his lips down his chest, down his stomach until he's at his belly button. He soaks in the sight, wet marks running up Sam’s still small body, up to his kiss bitten lips with teeth clamping down.

 

Dean doesn't hesitate to show Sam how much he loves the piercing.

 

And Sam makes sure to disinfect, because even if it's healed he just wants to be careful. Getting an infection because your brother had to come on your stomach isn't necessarily what Sam needs.


End file.
